


As Luck Would Have It

by dawnstruck



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Kise and Midorima being gay besties, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Kise became Midorima's self-declared gay best friend, life has been taking a turn for the worst.<br/>Then Grindr happens. And Takao Kazunari. And, possibly, love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of the urgent need for Kise and Midorima being gay besties, and my spending too much time on Tinder.  
> I have no shame. Also, Midorima is such fun to write.
> 
> This is set in a canon divergent universe where Kise never went to Teiko and never played basketball, and where Takao moved away during middle school. But all of that will be explained throughout the story.

“Come on, Midorimacchi,” Kise whines in that obnoxious voice of his, dancing away and lifting the stolen phone out of reach.

“Give it back,” Midorima bites out, already close to snapping. Then again, when in Kise's presence, his patience always runs low.

“You need to loosen up a little,” Kise tells him, not for the first time, “Otherwise you'll never get laid.”

“I don't want to 'get laid',” Midorima claims, barely refraining from using air quotes. But Kise just gives him a look.

“Remember that time I found you, all alone and helpless, in the middle of a notorious gay club?” Kise reminds him as though anyone could forget. It had been their first encounter after all, and Midorima's continued exposure to Kise throughout the following seven months has already cost him at least a decade of his life span, erroded by stress and exasperation.

“You were a lamb among wolves,” Kise sighs dramatically, “A schoolboy among Yakuza. You stood there in all your bespectacled glory, two-meters tall and looking like a lost puppy, the drink in you hand more virginate than even your-”

“Yes, thank you, that would be enough,” Midorima cuts him off, making another grab for the phone.

“Point is,” Kise insists, making a mad dash through the room and vaulting over the sofa, “If we are ever going to get you a date, you'll have to let me handle it.”

For a little while, in the early days of their unfortunate acquaintance, Midorima had feared that Kise was actually coming on to him, but gradually he worked out that Kise was secretly seeing some very closeted, supposedly straight guy. So maybe trying to introduce Midorima to the wild gay life style was his way of compensating for the fact that he didn't get to date publically.

“I am very busy and content with my life at the moment,” Midorima points out indignantly, rightening his glasses that have gotten knocked askew in their scuffle, “I just want to concentrate on my studies for now.”

“You've been saying this for as long as I've known you,” Kise tuts at him, “And look at it this way – if you find someone to even fleetingly date, I'll get off your case. That's loads of free time for you right there.”

That... actually sounds like a surprisingly logical deal.

Midorima is just about to open his mouth to object anyway, when his phone makes an unfamiliar ringing noise.

“Ooh!” Kise cheers, immediately peering down at the device in his hand, “You've got a match!”

Because Midorima had left him alone for all of ten minutes and Kise had abused the opportunity to appropriate his phone and install a dating app. Midorima had walking in on him, giggling and cooing and pulling stupid faces, swiping this way and that way, and answering the question of what on earth he was doing with, “Finding you a boyfriend, of course!”

“Oh my,” he says now, eyes glowing, “What a cutie.”

“Kise,” Midorima warns, stepping closer again.

“I'm serious!” Kise claims, taking a step back, but lifting the phone to reveal the screen, “He's really cute.”

Midorima barely spares the small picture a glance, just registers some dark hair and a toothy smile.

“It also says that he is a Scorpio,” Kise adds, glancing back at the phone, “How's the compatability with Cancer there?”

The problem with Kise is that he had quickly figured out just how superstitious Midorima really is, his belief in all things esoteric exposed as soon as he realized that all those lucky items were more than just a funny phase.

“That is irrelevant here,” Midorima huffs, though he has to admit that his interest is perked.

The compatability between Scorpio and Cancer is notoriously high, both Water signs that cancel out each others weaknesses and transform them into strengths. They are also highly sensual. And sexual.

A blush must have crept into his cheeks because Kise immediately cheers again.

“I'm going to text him!” he announces and reads out loud as he starts typing, “'Hi, Takao-chan. Nice to match you'.”

“That is an awful line, I do not sound anything like that, give it back now,” Midorima says in a rush, feeling increasingly more flustered. It's bad enough that Kise has apparently published photos of him on a dating app, but to assume his identity and contact any of these strangers-

Another horrifying thought occurs to him. What if not all of those are strangers? What if there is someone who recognizes him from university? Or, even worse, someone who knows his parents?

That is what finally gives him enough strength and vehemence to round the sofa and overwhelm Kise, wrestling the phone from him.

“Noo~!” Kise wails horribly, trying to win it back, but Midorima lifts it far over his head.

“You've had your entertainment for the night,” he says dryly, using that tone that signals Kise that he really should stop pushing now.

“Oh, fine,” Kise huffs petulantly, crossing his arms, “Ruin all the fun, why don't you.”

“Didn't you cite another engagement for the night anyway?” Midorima reminds him, subtle enough to not make him sound too judgmental, but still enough to sting a little.

Kise looks away for a moment.

“Just because he doesn't want me enough to be out doesn't mean that no one else can be enjoying themselves,” he says quietly. But then, as he always does, he just brushes it aside and perks up again, “Which is why you should totally give this Takao a chance.”

“That's what you said about the last one,” Midorima points out, feeling a vein tick in his forehead.

Kise has the grace to look at least a little ashamed.

“To be fair,” he says, puffing up his cheeks in a cutesy manner, “I couldn't have known that he was Yakuza.”

“You said, and I am quoting here, 'Look at all those tattoos, he looks really dangeous, I bet he has killed people',” Midorima bites out and tries to stare Kise down but, as usual, it isn't working.

“Fine, fine,” the model just waves a careless hand, “Just promise me that if this Takao texts back, you'll let him down gently. It'd be mean to just leave him hanging there.”

“Why am I always the one to clean up after your mess?” Midorima wants to know yet Kise only preens.

“Because you love me,” he answers cheekily and Midorima can only roll his eyes as he starts pushing him into the hallway of his apartment.

“Are we going to go drinking next week?” Kise asks, finally having accepted that he is getting kicked out for the night, and obediently slipping into his shoes and jacket, but still blinking up with expectant eyes.

“Maybe,” Midorima sighs, causing Kise to whoop, because a maybe from Midorima is as good as a hell yes.

“I'll text you then,” Kise promises.

“You always do,” Midorima huffs and endures the exhuberant hug that is bestowed upon him.

“Have a good night then!” Kise winks at him over his shoulder when he is halfway through the threshold, “And be nice to Takao-chan!”

Midorima just closes the door.

 

He is brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed when his phone bings again. He half-expects it to be Kise, but before he has even picked it up he realizes that it was not his usual ringtone but the one from before, the one that indicated a message from the dating app.

With dread in his stomach, he looks at the text anyway.

It is, indeed, the boy named Takao.

 _Hi yourself, Shin-chan,_ it reads plainly.

Midorima immediately cringes at the overly familiar term of address but, considering that Kise opened the conversation by calling the other Takao-chan, he guesses that it's only fair to be getting the same treatment in return.

Nevertheless, he puts the phone back down and returns to his nightly routine, rinsing his mouth, splashing water on his face and rubbing it dry with a towel.

He's barely put his glasses back on when the phone rings again. And again.

For a long moment, he just closes his eyes and curses Kise. Then he takes his phone, clenches his fingers around it, leaves the bathroom, flicks off the lights, and marches into his bedroom.

He's just laid down, setting the phone on the bedside table when there is another bing. And one more as he reaches out to turn of the reading lamp. And one more.

Midorima grits his teeth, trying to keep his patience.

He should have just deleted the app the moment Kise was out the door. But he has to admit that there is a truth to Kise's words to at least let the other down gently. After all, it's not within Midorima's nature to be impolite. At least, when it comes to strangers. Kise, however, is fair game.

He reaches for his phone and looks at the screen, reading the influx of messages he has received. It figures that Kise would be able to pick the one guy who has the same texting habits as himself.

 _Okay, first thing first,_ Takao has written, _I've never used a dating app before. So I don't know what the conventions here are._

_I'm guessing smalltalk is the way to go?  
So: I like cats._

_But you probably already knew that._

_:D_

Midorima frowns and before he even knows why, he is typing back.

_I am not a clair-voyant. How I am supposed to anything like that?_

_Because of my profile pics,_ comes the immediate reply.

Right. There was that minor oversight.

With careful attention, Midorima peruses Takao Kazunari's profile, just to glean an idea on how to proceed from here. The given name is certainly rather modern and unusual, but the first picture is nothing noteworthy, just a selfie of an average looking boy with hair that is dark and neither long nor short, and a broad grin that makes his eyes squeeze shut.

His profile text is just as inane as his text messages, random and full of smileys.

_Takao Kazunari, 21. I'm a Scorpio, but I swear I don't sting! Love animals and my little sister! People who enjoy life are winners! New in town and hoping to meet new friends! Just text me if you want to talk! ;)_

There are several more photographs, one of Takao holding a cat, one of him at the beach, his hands throwns up and silhouette outlined against the deep blue of sky and ocean. The last one is easily the most flattering, that obnoxious grin replaced by a more subtle, almost seductive smile. His build seems slender and he is probably quite a bit short than Midorima. Not that any of it matters, of course.

Another bing, another message. Midorima reads it reluctantly.

_Do you like cats?_

_I do not,_ he replies, simply to make a point.

_Whaaat? D: Everyone likes cats! They are so cute and fluffy!_

_Wrong. They are vicious and highly deceptive. As a child, a cat let me pet it and then turned to scratch me without a warning._

_Ah, so you have a childhood trauma and trust issues,_ Takao replies and Midorima wonders how they got from felines to psycho analyses.

 _It's okay, though!_ Takao quickly reassures him, _We have other stuff in common._

Midorima highly doubts that.

_Like what?_

_Basketball! <3_

At that, Midorima startles. Then he makes sure to check his own profile to see what incriminating details about his life Kise has fabricated. To his surprise, and also relief and abhorrence at the same time, he finds nothing but the truth.  
_Midorima Shintaro, 21. 1,95m, Cancer, med student. Looking for real connections with real people._

The first picture is one Kise had once taken of him to use as a contact photo, a simple portrait of Midorima looking rather somber and unimpressed. The second is a candid, one he hadn't even known existed, of him in a dress shirt, drinking tea on Kise's couch. The last one, however, explains why Takao knows about basketball. And why he 'liked' Midorima's profile in the first place.

It's Midorima on court, just after a satisfying victory. His hair is damp with sweat and sticking to his flushed face so he has lifted the hem of his jersey to wipe at his skin, exposing his abdominals and not quite concealing the proud smirk on his lips.

Kise, Midorima resolves, would have to die.

 _What position do you play?_ Takao wants to know and Midorima's pride forces him to answer.

_Shooting guard._

_Cool! I'm a point guard. :) Are you part of a team atm?_

_I do play for my university's team_ , Midorima admits, _Though it does take away time from my studies._

 _I know what you mean,_ Takao answers, _I used to play in middle and high school, but now I live on my own, so there's uni and chores and my part time job. @__@ I just want to play a decent game again._

Midorima's fingers almost type back some sort of sympathetic comment, but then they still. For the past fifteen minutes he's been doing the one thing he had wanted to avoid – engaging a total stranger on a dating app in meaningless conversation.

The pause, however, causes Takao to keep going.

 _This is probably really straight forward of me,_ he writes, _But would you like to play sometime? I don't really know many people here yet._

At that, Midorima's lips purse.

 _I am afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Takao-san_ , he types, choosing his words carefully, _I never intended to use this application to engage with anyone._

  
_No!_ Takao shoots off at once, _I don't mean a random hook-up! I just really wanna play basketball!_

 _I should clarify,_ Midorima elaborates, _It was a friend of mine who intalled this app and set up a profile without my knowledge. I do not wish to actually make use of it. Though I am sorry that you ended up as collateral, so to speak._

There is a long pause.

 _Oh,_ the reply finally comes, _Well, that's awkward._

Then, _Was you friend the one who texted me, too?_

 _Only the initial message was composed by him,_ Midorima responds, feeling the need to come completely clean.

_That explains why I got a totally different vibe from that one. ^^'_

Another pause.

_Well, I guess in that case, I shouldn't bother you any longer._

_I do sincerely apologize,_ Midorima repeats.

 _You don't have to, T_ akao waves him off, _Just give your friend a kick in the ass from me. Because you're really cute and I rather got my hopes up there._

Never, in his life, does Midorima recall having been called cute, except maybe by Kise who does it to rile him up.

_Well, good night then, Shin-chan._

_Good night,_ Takao, Midorima types back and goes to sleep.

 

The next morning is a Sunday and passes rather uneventfully. Midorima spends a few hours devising a schedule on how to distribute his work load for the new semester and to figure out when to start studying for what.

Around noon, he takes a break and starts to prepare himself some lunch. He's barely pressed the on switch of the rice cooker when his phone vibrates inhis pocket.

Not really knowing who or what to expect he pulls it out and glances at the screen. Instead of a normal message, however, it's another alert from the dating app. Expecting a delayed match from Kise's liking spree of the previous evening, he reluctantly opens it, resolving to delete the whole thing immediately after.

 _Shin-chan! D:_ , he read, _Sorry to bother you, but how do I know whether I have a concussion?_

Midorima stares. He had not been expecting to get contacted by Takao Kazunari again, especially not on such a random topic.

 _What?_ he types back, _Why would you ask that?_

_I tried installing a ceiling lamp but fell off the chair and hit my head. I think I may have passed out for a bit and you're the only doctor I know, so._

_I am a med student,_ Midorima replies, feeling exasperated, _I can't possibly give you a diagnosis from afar._

Then he adds, _Take a taxi and go to the hospital. Don't just wait it out, especially when you are alone._

 _Aw, man,_ Takao complains, _I'd been hoping to spend my Sunday a little differently. ):_

Midorima can relate to that but it's still better to be safe than sorry.

Takao seems to agree, _Oh well, I better get going then. Thanks a bunch, Shin-chan._

 _Get well,_ Midorima tells him out of common courtesy because he is going to become a doctor and it's never too early to start working on one's bedside manner.

For the rest of the day, he feels strangely restless.

When he is almost down with cleaning his apartment and waiting for the floor in his livingroom to dry, he unconsciously starts toying with his phone.

He had wanted to delete the app, he reminds himself. Might as well do it now.

Instead, his fingers hover over the icon, uncertain on how to proceed.

 _What did the doctors say?_ he types and hits send, adding to the already surprisingly long message thread with Takao Kazunari.

No reply, even thought the app says that the other is currently online.

 _Are they keeping you overnight?_ he adds.

But still, nothing.

Midorima bites the inside of his cheek, trying to recall what Oha Asa had said about Cancer's fate for today. Were any tragedies to be expected?

He finds himself looking up the predictions for the day. There is indeed a warning against smaller accidents, but nothing to worry about, even if the person in question does not carry their lucky item about them.

Strangely enough, though, Midorima does not find himself reassured by that information.

Ten minutes after he sent the last message, however, he finally gets a reply.

 _Sorry, was taking a shower,_ Takao writes, _So no, I'm back at home. Doctor said I'll just have a nasty bump and a bit of a headache._

 _That's good_ , Midorima tells him and then, realizing how that may sound, he amends, _That you are not more severely injured, I mean._

 _Yeah, I got that. :D_ Takao responds, obviously amused, _Thanks for asking, though. As I said, I'm new here so it's nice to have someone worried about me._

 _I wasn't worried_ , Midorima claims a pinch to his lips, _I merely did not want the knowlegde of you lying dead in a ditch weighing on my conscience._

 _That's a kind of worry,_ Takao informs him blithely, _Though maybe not the most flattering one._

 _In any case,_ Midorima says, _Try not to fall off any chairs anytime soon._

 _Will do my best!_ :P Takao replies cheekily, but Midorima just sighs and shuts off his phone.

 

On Monday, as he is waiting for his lecture to start, his phone vibrates. It's probably Kise, sending him a sample of the photo shoot he had earlier this morning.

And indeed, when he checks his phone, he finds a picture, but not one sent by Kise.

Instead, it is a selfie of Takao Kazunari posing next to a tabby cat that is sitting outside on a wall. Takao has an outraged expression on his face and his left forearm is lifted up to display some bloody lines on his skin.

 _You were right about cats!_ is the accompanying complaint, _I tried to pet her but she just scratched me. I feel even more betrayed than I did yesterday after my chair and gravity turned against me!_

Against his will, Midorima finds a small smile tugging at his lips.

 _You should get that desinfected,_ he warns the other, _Even domesticated pets may carry a lot of diseases. Are you vaccinated against tetanus?_

 _I guess?_ Takao seems uncertain, _What if I'm not?_

 _You might die,_ Midorima informs him bluntly.

 _Getting it desinfected right the fuck now,_ Takao resolves, _And never going to touch a strange cat ever again._

 _Life's little lessons,_ Midorima says simply.

_You're just happy that you were right about cats and want to rub it in my face._

I bet that's not the only thing you'd like to rub on him , Kise's voice suddenly pops up in Midorima's head and he finds himself blushing rather furiously.

Lowering his head so that no one may see the blush on his cheeks, he decides to quickly cut the conversation shirt in order to save himself from further embarrassment.

 _My lecture is about to start,_ he tells Takao which is, strictly speaking, not a lie, even though he still has some minutes left before the professor will even arrive.

 _Sure thing!_ Takao texts back, _Have fun._ _Go learn how to save the lives of innocent little boys who've gotte viciously mauled by terrifying beasts._

Go get your head checked out, Midorima wants to tell him, but settles on, _Try not to die._

 

 _Is it okay to eat stuff that has gone a little moldy?_ he receives later that evening.

 _Depends,_ he replies, _Meat and milk products should always be thrown away._

_What about bread?_

_If you generously cut off the moldy patches, it should be fine. Though I do recommend that you just buy fresh food._

_Cool, thanks_ , Takao tells him with a thumbs up and Midorima would think nothing more of it, if it weren't for the text he wakes up to the next morning.

_Correction: Bread should be thrown away, too._

_What on earth did you do?_ he asks, sleepily rubbing the heel of his thumb over his eyes, pushing his glasses out of the way.

 _Spent the latter half of the night on the toilet_ , Takao whines. At least, that's what Kise would do and Midorima cannot help but extrapolate from that, even though he has never heard Takao speak.

It occurs to him how odd it is that he doesn't even know what this person sounds like, but chooses not to dwell on it.

_That's one mental image I could have done without, he writes back dryly._

_You're going to be a doctor, Shin-chan. Take it as preparation for when you'll have to deal with blood and drool and diarrhea all day long._

_That's different,_ Midorima defends himself though he can't quite pinpoint what difference that would be. Trying to change the topic, he adds, _You seem to be very accident prone._

 _Not really?_ comes the reply, almost thoughtful, _I just had an off week. Living on your own is harder than I thought._

 _You should be carrying your lucky item for the day to avoid further complications_ , Midorima advises him.

 _What's that?_ Takao wants to know and Midorima immediately texts him the link to Oha Asa's online official website, _Check your horoscope for the day and prepare accordingly._

There's a longer pause, probably because Takao is taking his time to inspect the site.

Do you believe in that stuff? Takao asks eventually, I mean, does it work for you?

 _I always have my lucky items with me,_ he answers decisively, _I has generally had a positive affect on my life._

_So you're never not lucky?_

_Certain circumstances of fate cannot be avoided entirely,_ Midorima admits, _But the risks can be minimized._

 _Cool thing,_ Takao says, I'll give it a try tomorrow.

At that, Midorima finds himself rather surprised. Usually, people don't just accept his belief in Oha Asa like that, preferring to either openly ridicule him or give him condescending smiles.

 _Do that,_ he writes plainly.

 _I'll text you the results!_ Takao promises and, for some reason, Midorima cannot find it in himself to tell him not to.

 

 _OMG, Shin-chan!_ is the message he receives the next day in the late afternoon.

 _You'll never believe what happened!_ Takao begins to narrate, shooting off text after text, _So I'm kind of in a hurry this morning and I just got back home. But then I realize that I must have locked myself out of my apartment and that I can't get back in. BUT: I had a pair of disposable chopsticks with me – the lucky item for Cancer today._

 _So it did not work,_ Midorima surmizes with vague disappoinment.

 _No, wait!_ Takao interrups, _It turned out that I hadn't left my keys inside, but that I atually lost them._

 _How is that any better?_ Midorim asks.

_Because my neighbour foud them and returned them to me as I was having a nervous breakdown in front of my locked door. So my day was bad, then worse – but it all turned out fine in the end._

_Oha Asa is never wrong,_ Midorima knows.

 _I'm not sure whether I'll do the lucky item thing all the time,_ Takao concedes, _But I'll definitely give it a try for important days, like exams and stuff._

 _You should still study,_ Midorima points out, _Luck alone is not enough._

 _I'm glad to hear you say that,_ Takao replies, _I don't think a doctor who only relies on his horoscope is going to save many lives._

 _True,_ Midorima says and leaves it at that.

 

“So, what have you been up to this week?” Kise asks as usual. He always makes it sound like he is hoping for some saucy stories, but still listens with rapt attention as Midorima tells him about something he has recently learned in class.

This week, however, instead of going into detail about ruptured spleens and apendicitis, Midorima crumbles.

“I have accidentally established an on-going correspondence with Takao Kazunari,” he says quickly, almost stumbling over the words.

“Takao,” Kise repeats slowly as if wondering whether that name should mean anything to him, “Ah! The Grindr guy!”

“Not so loud!” Midorima shushes him, leaning closer across the table, “And all of this is, in fact, your fault.”

“If anything, it is my _achievement_ ,” Kise corrects him proudly, “And anyway, how can you accidentally establish a relationship?”

“Not a relationship,” Midorima cannot help but blush, “It is merely... conversing. Via text. Nothing more.”

“But you would like more,” Kise realizes, starting to grin.

“I never said that,” Midorima points out.

“Uh-huh,” Kise seems unimpressed, “So what are you guys talking about? Sexy stuff?”

“No,” Midorima insists, refraining from vehemently shaking his head, “It's just smalltalk. Everyday life. Joking.”

“You don't joke,” Kise reminds him, “Like, ever.”

“But he does,” Midorima purses his lips, “In a way, he is like you. But... less annoying.”

“Oh wow, thank you,” Kise fans himself, “I can really feel the love.”

Midorima doesn't bother to reassure him. The simple fact that he regularly meets up with Kise should say enough about his commitment to their friendship.

“So you like him,” Kise surmizes and his gaze is sharp enough now that Midorima finds himself uncomfortably reminded of being analysed by Akashi or Momoi.

“Non-sense,” he says, leaning back and pushing his glasses up his nose, “How would I like a person whom I've never even met?”

“You forget that I am an idol, Midorimacchi,” Kise reminds him, “I have plenty of fans swooning over me. And they all got that look about them. And now you got it, too, when talking about this Takao guy.”

“I am nothing like your ridiculous fans,” Midorima bites out, feeling personally insulted at that comparison.

“Yeah, but considering how composed you usually are, your current state is the equivalent to a schoolgirl with a crush,” Kise teases, “So you at least have to admit that online dating is not a completely insane idea.”

“It's not dating,” Midorima says tersely and, in an attempt to escape from the situation, stands up from his chair, “If you'd excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”

“Of course you do,” Kise rolls his eyes and waves him away.

When Midorima has taken a few moments to get his bearings back, he returns to their table, only to have his heart stop when he sees Kise toying with the phone that he had left behind next to his glass, even though he should have learned from last week's mistake.

“Kise,” he growls threateningly and Kise yelps when the device is snatched out of his hand.

Naturally, Kise has started texting Takao and Midorima quickly reads to the exchange.

_Hey. Wanna meet up sometime?_

_?? Who is this?_

_Midorima, of course._

_Yeah, I doubt that._

_What? Why?_

_Shin-chan would never write like that. You're his friend, right?_

_Aw, damn. Okay, yeah. I stole his phone. Again._

_Thought so. He'd never just ask to meet up like that._

_I know! That's why I'm trying to help by doing it for him. Wouldn't you like that, too?_

_Sure. But you can't force someone on a date. Especially not Shin-chan._

_You already know him quite well, huh?_

_Not really. He doesn't like to give away much about himself. But in a way, that already tells you a lot._

_Cheers for reluctantly gay men everywhere._

_It's not just about being gay. He's naturally introverted and needs someone who lures him out of his shell a little. That's your job, I'm guessing?_

_Could be yours, if you want it._

_I'll leave that for Shin-chan to decide. He's made no indication of wanting to meet up. And that's okay._

_Takao,_ Midorima types quickly once he has finished reading, though his face is burning, _This is Midorima._

 _Hi, Shin-chan,_ Takao replies at once, _You should really start guarding your phone better._

 _Or find new friends,_ Midorima muses.

 _Nah,_ Takao decides, _He's alright. A little overzealous maybe._

_You should get along splendidly then._

_:D You guys are out having fun?_

_So far, I wouldn't describe it as fun._

_Well, then I'll let you get back to it in hopes of you reaching adequate levels on entertainment._

Midorima frowns, suspicious, _Are you copying my speech patterns?_

 _I would never! ;-)_ Takao winks at him, _Have a great evening, Shin-chan._

_Thank you, Takao._

When he finally puts down his phone again it's to find Kise smirking at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Not a crush, huh?” he asks, but it sounds more fond than teasing.

“Shut up,” Midorima just says and takes a deep gulp of his drink.

Kise just laughs. It that moment, however, his own phone goes off, an obnoxious j-pop song, though he seems to be changing his ring tone every day from what Midorima can tell.

“Sorry,” Kise apologizes, but when he looks at the screen his smile dims a little. Midorima immediately knows who the caller is.

“Yes?” Kise asks tentatively when he picks up, his gaze flickering up to to his friend and away again as he feels the full weight of Midorima's judgmental stare.

“No,” he says, half-covering the phone with his hands and turning away slightly, “No, I'm out with a friend right now. … We just got here half an hour ago. I could come over later? … Yes? … Okay. … Okay. I'll be there around eleven, alright?”

Midorima glances at his watch. It's already 9:30 Kise will have to leave soon enough if he wants to be somewhere else on time.

“Sorry,” Kise repeats when he has hung up the phone.

“Why are you even still meeting him when he treats you like that?” Midorima demands, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He feels like they have delayed this conversation for entirely too long.

“He doesn't treat me badly,” Kise claims, though he doesn't sound entirely convinced,

“He expects you to make time for him whenever he wants, and complains when you are busy with something else. You never go on dates, but just meet up at his place. Where you only have sex, I assume.”

For once, it's Midorima who makes Kise blush instead of the other way round.

“Well, it's not like he is leading me on or anything,” Kise justifies his so-called relationship, “From the beginning, he was very clear about not being out and that, if I wanted an actual boyfriend, I should just look for someone else.”

“So why don't you?” Midorima wants to know.

“I mean, it's not like I can judge,” Kise hurries to say, “I can't openly date either, right? There's no telling what that would do to my public image. So this is for the best, really.”

“If you have to hide you should at least find someone who makes you genuinely happy,” Midorima criticizes, “Instead of treating you like a chore.”

But now Kises purses his lips, “I could turn that around on you, you know?”

Midorima's forehead creases, “What do you mean?”

“Just look at you and Takao,” Kise says, regaining his footing, “He's interested in you, you're obviously interested in him. Yet you refuse to acknowledge him as a potential date, mostly because you are not quite at ease with your sexuality.”

“That's a completely different situation,” Midorima objects, though he finds himself getting flustered. Damn Kise for always getting the better of him in regards to emotional matters.

“Not that different,” Kise huffs, but his gaze softens, “You should really give him a chance, you know? It doesn't even have to be a date. You're already on your way to becoming friends with him so you might as well transition from texting to real life.”

“We've been texting for merely a week,” Midorima reminds him, “That's no basis for a relationship of any kind.”

“But it's a start,” Kise tells him rather insightfully, but then follows it up with, “Also, the basis for our friendship was me saving you from getting puked on in a gay club, so...”

“I would have preferred that scenario,” Midorima laments, “Your existence in my life is, after all, much more persistant than a bit of vomit on my shirt.”

“Again with the compliments,” Kise jeers, “You're really on a roll here, aren't you, Midorimacchi?”

“You're a model,” Midorima says dryly, “Your ego is already inflated enough. Someone needs to get you back down to earth.”

Kise clutches at his heart in feigned pain, and the rest of the evening passes with their usual banter.

Soon enough, Kise makes his excuses and leaves in order to meet with his mystery man.

Midorima stays behind a bit longer, taking his time to finish his drink. He's pleasantly relaxed, but not inebriated, and the dimmed light and jazzy music of the bar only serve to make him feel even more at ease.

When he glances at his phone to check the time, he instead ends up looking at Takao's profile picture.

The broad grin on him doesn't look as ridiculous as it still did last week. It's not like Kise's practised smile, perfect and dazzling with years and years of experience. Instead, Takao Kazunari's grin dimples his cheeks and scrunches up his eyes. It's real and tangible and strangely inviting.

 _Takao,_ he types, sipping the last of his drink, eyes hooded as he gazes down at the screen, _Would you still be ameable to a future meeting?_

As always, Takao's response is immediate and straight-forward.

_Thought you would never ask._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how will the first not-date with Takao work out? Who is Kise's mystery man? Will there be a happy ending?  
> Find out all that and more in the second chapter, but you might as well leave me some comments with your guesses down below. ;D


	2. Chapter 2

Midorima makes the conscious decision of _not_ informing Kise about the meeting, fearing that it would only serve to fray his ragged nerves even more.

He and Takao have agreed to meet on Wednesday afternoon, and Midorima hopes that it will make it feel less like a date than a Saturday night at a bar would.

The setting is also inconspicuous enough: the shopping mall near the park where Midorima often goes jogging. It offers up enough sources of distraction so that their interaction will hopefully not get too awkward. But Midorima suspects that Takao is perfectly able to keep a conversation going, no matter who he is talking to. In that regard, he seems very much like Kise.

Midorima values punctuality and fortunately doesn't have to wait long once he arrives at their meeting point.

“Shin-chan!” he hears someone call out, but it takes a wave of a hand to draw his attention to an approaching person.

“Takao Kazunari, I presume,” he greets, though it's obvious enough when the boy comes to stand in front of him.

Takao looks just like his pictures, casual outfit of cargo shorts and a t-shirt, backpack slung over his shoulder and grin on his lips.

“Whoa,” Takao says now, tilting his head back to better look at him, “I mean, I knew you were tall, but it's really different seeing you in person.”

Because Takao is quite a bit shorter than him which is a bit of an unusual situation for Midorima as well. Most of his acquaintances, after all, are basketball players and thus generally have greater than average physical height, individuals like Akashi and Kuroko rather being the exception.

Even Kise has the build of a basketball player and, though not at eye level, can comfortably talk to Midorima.

“No wonder you're good at b-ball,” Takao says as though he had read the other's thoughts, and Midorima cocks an eyebrow, “How do you know whether I'm good?”

“I've met my fair share of players,” Takao shrugs, “At some point, you learn to tell them apart. You got something about you that just elevates you from the mediocre rest.”

It occurs to Midorima that Takao is not merely talking about his height.

“Thank you,” he says, he says, inclining his head, because it's always nice to be acknowledged by another player, even if he doesn't quite feel the same presence from Takao.

“So,” Takao says, grinning up at him, “Shall we hit the court?”

“Pardon?” Midorima blinks, caught off guard.

“There's a street court in the park nearby,” Takao explains as though it were obvious, “So let's go play.”

“We don't have a ball,” Midorima says, but Takao just points to his bag, “Brought one.”

At that, Midorima is surprised, “You come prepared.”

“I figured getting you to play would make more sense than dragging you to the arcade or something,” Takao shrugs, “So. You game?”

As though Midorima could ever say no to basketball.

 

It turns out that they do not even need Takao's ball.

At the street court, they come across a group of other students their age and agree on playing a three-on-three. Takao insists on being on the same team as Midorima.

“I'll pass you a ball that'll make you acknowledge me for sure,” he promises as though feeling the need to prove himself.

Midorima is not exactly dressed for sports, his jeans well fitted and his shirt a little too nice, so he strips and plays in his undershirt instead.

The other players don't seem to expect much from them. Takao a little on the short side, and Midorima used to being underestimated when it comes to physical exercise. Barely two minutes into the match, however, it becomes obvious that they are easily the best players.

Takao, to Midorima's honest surprise, does not disappoint. The way he plays is something to marvel at, extremely quick on his feet and with incredible sense for visuals. And despite the fact that their three-man team has never played together before, Takao manages to perfectly coordinate between them, anticipating where they will be at any given moment. He also expresses a great deal of trust.

“Takao,” Midorima calls and despite the fact that he is standing at the seemingly wrong end of the court, Takao responds without question, sending him a long pass.

Midorima catches it and seamlessly falls into stance. One of the guys on the other team laughs, but Midorima does not let himself be deterred. In a high arc, the ball sails across the court and, to the obvious amazement of everyone around, sinks into the basket, never even touching the hoop.

Midorima suppresses the urge to smirk, but is distracted by a loud, cackling laugh. When he looks over, Takao is doubled over with laughter, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh man, Shin-chan,” he says, a little breathless, “You really are something else.”

For reasons unknow, Midorima finds himself unfathomably pleased.

 

After their joint victory, Takao declares his hunger and that they should get themselves a well-earned meal. Together, they end up back at the shopping mall and a small ramen place, agreeing that as university students they can't really afford to splurge.

As Midorima suspected, Takao is just as prone to mindless chattering face-to-face as he always was when texting. Still, the taller boy makes an effort to answer all questions and offer up his own opinions in order to not let the conversation become too onesided.

“So it kinda sucked when we had to move away,” Takao is illustrating how his father's job caused the family to leave Tokyo, “And I always wanted to come back. I mean, I really miss everyone, especially my little sister, but this city is just so much livelier. There are just so many people, though it's kinda more difficult to really get to know anyone. I haven't even really had the time to check out the night life around here. Have you ever been to Ni-chome?”

“Unfortunately,” Midorima confesses, the corners of his mouth pulling down, “It's were I first met Kise.”

Takao had already needled him for the name of his friend, though Midorima is reluctant to reveal Kise's actual identity. Kise tries to keep his personal life under wraps, so Midorima can't exactly go around outing him to near-strangers.

“Judging by your face that sounds like an interesting story,” Takao says, unsubtly hinting that he wants to hear it in its entirety. Midorima sighs.

“It was little over half a year ago,” he explains, making sure to lower his voice, “I had finally come to terms with the fact that my... interest in men might not be a fleeting fancy after all. So I decided that the most logical course of action would be to go to an establishment where I could farther explore my tendencies.”

“Most logical,” Takao agrees, though there is a bit of laugh caught in his voice. Midorima cannot even fault him for that. In hindsight, going to one of the biggest gay clubs in Tokyo hadn't been one of his best ideas, especially considering that he didn't even like clubbing to begin with.

“I was surrounded by loud music and people in various stages of intoxication,” Midorima recalls, his nose scrunching up at the memory, “Sweaty men were pressing up to me and touching me in inappropriate places. I realized that if this was what being homosexual included, I would rather stay celibate for the rest of my life.”

Takao is chuckling now, but still attentively waiting for more.

“A particularly persistant individual kept clinging to me and I was uncertain how to get rid of him,” Midorima shudders lightly, “That's when Kise appeared. He used 'some of his best lines' on the man and lured him away. Finally free, I was about to flee the premises, but Kise accosted me and offered to buy me a drink. He said he immediately recognized me as a 'newbie' and didn't want to let this one experience scare me off.”

“Let me guess,” Takao grins, “He's dragged you off to several more clubs since then.”

“Correct,” Midorima sighs, “Though I do admit that these were generally much more pleasant than the first one. Still, I do not feel comfortable with the idea of having my sexuality dictate that I should be taking drugs, wear skimpy outfits, and engage in promiscuity.”

“No, I can't really imagine you like that either,” Takao agrees, a twinkle in his grey eyes. He leans back in his chair, looking relaxed, “I'm bi, so it's a little bit easier fore me, I guess. I mean, I never felt the need to search out the gay scene. I'd been on plenty of dates with girls before I realized that I liked guys as well. And dates with them are pretty much the same.”

He gives Midorima a considering look, “But I guess I have to thank the gay scene in this case.”

Midorima gives a mild frown, “Why is that?”

“Because if you hadn't met Kise, then you'd never have gotten Grindr,” Takao says, “And then I never would have met you.”

“Shut up,” Midorima mumbles and busies himself with his ramen. Takao laughs and returns to his own meal as well.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Takao seems to remember something.

“Oh, look,” he says, digging into his pocket and placing a matchbox on the table between them.

Midorima cocks an eyebrow, “What's that?”

“My lucky item for the day,” Takao grins proudly, “I really wanted our first meeting to go over well, so I thought I should take no chances.”

Midorima, to his own surprise, is rather pleased at that revelation. Then he reaches into his own pocket to reveal a bracelet within a small see-through plastic ball.

“This is yours?” Takao asks, taking it from him and rolling it around between his palms, “This is one of those you get at a slot machine, right?”

“Yes,” Midorima confirms and Takao gives him a sly grin, “How many tries did it take you to get it?”

“... Eleven,” he admits and the confession wrings a laugh from Takao, loud enough that the other patrons turn their heads towards them, but Midorima cannot bring himself to care.

“Oh man,” Takao is wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, still chuckling, “Kinda sucks when you need luck to get your hands on your lucky item.”

“It was a bit of a hassle,” Midorima agrees, “But once more, it has worked out in my favor.”

He doesn't say that he refers to their meeting as well, but with the way Takao smiles at him he feels that he doesn't have to.

 

Midorima accompanies Takao to the subway station, after spending three enjoyable hours together.

Normally, he prefers being on his own or within a bigger group where he can fade into the background more easily, should he feel the need. So even his outings with Kise usually lead to him being somewhat annoyed at least once within as many hours.

Takao's presence, however, had been continuously pleasant.

There were a few jokes that Midorima didn't quite get, some that made him roll his eyes, but overall Takao never pushed him, never overstepped his boundaries. Their conversations ranged from their university courses, over former teammates and pro-basketball players they admire, to which meals were easy to prepare within a single-household. There had been stretches of silence where the simply walked side by side, but even those had never felt uncomfortable.

Takao seems to agree on that sentiment.

“I had a really great time, Shin-chan,” he says when his subway is about to arrive, “Playing b-ball with you is amazing.”

Midorima inclines his head in acknowledgement, “You're both a worthy opponent and partner.”

“Then maybe we should play again sometime,” Takao hints, less than suble, and Midorima allows himself to smile.

“That would be acceptable,” he says, stepping closer to the curb of the station as the wagon's doors open and the other jumps on.

“Then I'll text you, okay?” Takao makes sure and when he turns around to look at him, they are suddenly on eye level. Takao bites his own lower lip as his gaze drops to Midorima's mouth.

“I'll be looking forward to it,” Midorima tells him and takes a step back.

Smoothly, Takao salutes him, “Till then, Shin-chan!”

But then the doors are already beeping and sliding shut again and Midorima can breathe.

 

Throughout the rest of the of the week, Takao makes good of his promise and reguarly messages Midorima. Sometimes it's innocuous things like wishing him a good night or asking him how his day is going, then it's a photograph of a spilt soda and a complaint about having forgotten his lucky item.

Midorima texts back at his own leisure, never feeling like Takao expects immediate answers or equally as entertaining ones. Because Takao _is_ entertaining, so much so that one time Midorima's professor gives him a stern frown and tells him to pay attention because he has been smiling down at his phone.

 _There an exhibition on sports history at the State Museum,_ Takao texts him, _Wanna go?_

 _Gladly,_ Midorima replies because the combination of entertainment and education is possibly the most productive use one can make of one's time. Spending said time with Takao is just a side effect.

The exhibition itself turns out to be a bit lacklustre and all over the place, so afterwards they decide to visit the one on Samurai well. Midorima has seen it before as it is part of the standard exhibition, but Takao is all glowing eyes and childlike excitement, fawning over the weapons and armor.

“This is so cool,” he cheers, picking up one of the kendo swords that are meant for children to play pretend which Midorima refrains from pointing out.

“You're holding it wrong,” he says instead, “You're going to jar your wrist like this.”

“Huh?” Takao says, glancing along his own arm and the length of the sword, and over to Midorima, “How do you know?”

“I used to take kendo lessons during my first year in middle school,” he explains, “However, I decided to focus on basketball instead.”

“Shin-chan is so cool,” Takao says unabashedly, but then his gaze swipes along Midorima's body before quickly looking away.

“What?” Midorima wants to know, frowing.

“Nothing,” Takao huffs, rubbing the tip of his reddening nose, “Just imagining you in a hakama and all.”

Midorima doesn't react to that, mainly because he has no idea what to say. Instead he chooses to step a little closer and corrects Takao's stance.

“Hold the hilt like this,” he instructs, his hands gently moving Takao's to adjust the grasp, “And don't lock your elbows so much.”

Takao does as he is told, for once not offering up a cheeky comment. But when Midorima steps back to inspect his handywork, the other grins at him.

“Let's fight,” he says and wriggles his eyebrows, making Midorima blink, “Pardon?”

“There's another sword,” Takao points out, nodding towards the second kendo mounted on the wall, “So let's fight.”

“We cannot fight here. This is a museum,” Midorima objects, fumbling with his glasses, “I barely remember the basics myself, and you have never done this before. Someone might get injured.”

“Aw, is Shin-chan scared of getting hurt?” Takao teases, “Or of losing to a rookie?”

Midorima's eyebrow twitches, “I'm not scared.”

“Prove it,” Takao taunts and then tosses him his sword. Midorima catches it out of reflex, but then Takao has already grabbed the other one and is attacking him with a subdued war cry.

Midorima easily sidesteps him and carefully whacks him in the back with the sword. Takao lets out a surprised yelp, but retaliates, quick on his feet as he is.

Soon enough, their little fight has raised the attention of a group of elementary school children out on a field trip who gather around them with wide eyes and enthusiastically cheer them on, much to the reluctant amusement of their accompanying teachers.

Encouraged by their adoring audience, Takao begins to spin a mad tale around their battle.

“I am the rebirth of the great rounin Kazunari,” he declares proudly, grey eyes glinting at Midorima, asking him to play along, “And I have come to vanquish you, evil overlord Shin-chan.”

“That's Shin-sama for you,” Midorima replies easily and blocks Takao's attack.

“What's going on here?!” a voice rings out and Takao ducks his head, cursing under his breath as a museum guide approaches with angrily clicking heels.

“Told you,” Midorima feels the need to point out when they've gotten thrown out of the museum.

“Shut up,” Takao says with an elbow to his side, but then he is already tossing his head back and laughing carelessly.

It's the first time Midorima has gotten kicked out of anything, the first time he has ever broken the rules. He's not proud of it, but not exactly ashamed either.

“You have a bad influence on me,” he says and Takao throws him an amused glance.

“There's more where it came from,” he chuckles and Midorima hopes that it's meant as a promise.

 

The following weeks develop a bit of a routine. Midorima attends his lectures and basketball practise, does his chores, calls his mother, meets up with his sister, goes drinking with Kise, and in between it all he exchanges text messages with Takao.

They've met up several more times, and mostly they play basketball or just go for walks, usually followed by some sort of meal.

Today, they went to the arcade where Midorima turned out to be ridiculously bad at most video games, much to Takao's amusement. Then Midorima discovered the basket-throwing game and easily broke all the records which made his friend shut up rather quickly.

That, however, is the one thing that gives Midorima a headache. He can openly admit that he already considers Takao a dear friend – if it weren't for the fact that there is some obvious attraction between the two of them. Takao has never hidden it, would probably not even deny it if asked, drinking in the sight of an out-of-breath Midorima after a game or letting his gaze linger on his lips as he eats.

Midorima, too, has come to appreciate the times that Takao swipes back his hair with slender hands or how his nose crinkles when he barely suppresses a laugh.

It would be quite easy to re-define their relationship, to transition from friends to lovers, if it weren't for the fact that Midorima will have to take the first step. He has come to realize that Takao will leave him enough time and space to make up his mind, that he won't push him, and that he'll be quite alright with just remaining friends.

Yet Midorima is at a bit of a loss of what he actually wants.

“You free this weekend?” Takao asks when they are just about to part ways, but Midorima shakes his head, “I have an important test on Monday. I will be busy with studying.”

Takao sighs, “I should probably do that, too. I've been procrastinating so much. You have a bad influence on me as well, you know that, Shin-chan?”

“I dare say that even without me to occupy your time you would find enough excuses to put off your workload,” Midorima points out wryly, causing him to grin.

“True,” he admits, “But you're a much more enjoyable reason.”

This, Midorima thinks would be the perfect moment to kiss Takao. The other has his head tilted back a little and his eyes hooded in obvious expectation, so all it would take is for Midorima to bend down.

He doesn't, though.

“We can arrange a meeting on Wednesday,” he offers instead and he imagines a flicker of disappointment across Takao's face, but it is quickly washed away.

“Cool!” Takao nods, “You said you needed new shoes, right? We can go shopping then.”

“Very well,” Midorima agrees and bids him a good evening.

 

Much to his own chagrin, Midorima has finally come clean to Kise about his... personal acquaintance with Takao. Kise, of course, claims that he had known all along and demands to meet the 'new boytoy' as well.

Midorima threatens him wit bloody murder to never use that expression again before he agrees to ask Takao whether he would accept a meeting.

It helps that, with Kise's permission, he explains that his friend his actually Kise Ryouta the famous model who only has a handful of friends who know about his orientation. It's a major sign of trust on Kise's, and Midorima's part, too, that they allow an outsider into their fold, and it makes Takao all the more curious.

They meet at Maji Burger, though it gives Midorima a bit of an uncomfortable flashback to his teenage years. Kise has texted him that he's running a little late so Takao and Midorima already order their food and find a place to sit, slightly secluded to grant them more privacy.

Takao has chosen to sit down next to Midorima instead of across from him and as they talk quietly, he seems to be inching closer, though maybe that is just Midorima's imagination.

He has always thought that Kise is physically affectionate, but Takao is almost on the same level, always grabbing Midorima's arm to catch his attention, elbowing him, high-fiving him, casually letting their hands brush upon every occasion.

Even now, Takao is toying with the strings on the collar of Midorma's jacket, lightly pulling at them.

The mild force of it seems to transform into a pull of a different kind and he has to chide himself to pay attention to Takao's tale.

He's got his head propped up on his other hand, pale fingers in dark hair, and his tongue keeps swiping across his lips to lick up the remants of the spicy sauce from his burger.

And this is a public place with too many people around but, not for the first time, Midorima finds himself severely tempted. Unconsciously, he bends his neck, starting to lean down and, as if in reaction to the same magnetic pull, Takao's chin tilts up at the same time.

“Oi, Midorima, that you?” a vaguely familiar voice asks and immediately Midorima snaps his head back up.

“Aomine,” he says, less of a greeting and more of a gasp when his frantic gaze lands on his former teammate.

“Yo,” Aomine says and lazily lifts a hand, even though it's currently holding a paper bag with his fast food order.

They haven't seen each other in almost three years, but Aomine does not appear to have changed much. He's gotten a little taller, his shoulders a little broader. His face is leaner and more mature, but he's still got that perpetual frown etched on his brow, making him look like he's either constantly in a bad mood or has a mild migraine.

“What are you doing here?” Midorima asks and immediately curses himself. In accordance, Aomine just scoffs.

“Getting food, obviously,” he replies, “Same as you, I'm guessing.”

“Of course,” Midorima nods and then feels Takao nudge him.

“Shin-chan?” he asks and Midorima winches at the nickname because he can see how Aomine lifts an eyebrow in reaction.

“Where are my manners,” he forces himself to remain calm, clearing his throat and putting on a pleasant face, “Takao, this is Aomine. We went to middle school together and played on the same team.”

He doesn't introduce Takao, both because he does not wish to divulge the truth, and because Aomine would not care anyway.

“Oooh,” Takao says in understanding and sits up straighter, “That Generation of Miracles thing that you mentioned? That's so cool. Come on, sit, sit.”

He pats the the top of the table as if to indicate that there is still enough room left, and Midorima suppresses a groan when Aomine just shrugs and actually accepts the invitation, sliding onto the bench across from them. Then again, it's probably mostly because the restaurant is rather crowded and there are not many free chair available.

As if to prove that, Aomine leisurely takes a burger out of his bag, unwraps it, and then takes a hearty bite, chewing slowly.

“So,” he says, talking with his mouth full, “What are you doing with your life?”

“I am studying to become a doctor,” Midorima answers somewhat tersely because small talk with someone like Aomine is not exactly among his favourite pastimes, “However, I am only in my third semester.”

“Right, right,” Aomine nods along, “Satsuki mentioned something like that. She's keeping tabs on everyone.”

“As was to be expected of her,” Midorima asserts. He himself has kept in loose contact with Akashi who, as he knows, is studying in England but also following Murasakibara's, Haizaki's, and Kuroko's progress in life.

Aomine had always been the odd one out in that regard, a little removed, a little careless. Not that Midorima himself has taken particular pains to not fall out of touch with him.

“And you?” he asks out mere politeness, but Aomine just pulls a face as though unimpressed by his own achievements.

“Working odd jobs here and there,” he says, rubbing the side of his nose with the heel of his hand because his fingers are dripping with sauce, “Got a scholarship, but uni wasn't really for me. Now I'm kinda waiting to get scouted, though it's a bit of a drag when you're not officially playing for a team.”

Out of all of them, Aomine and possibly Murasakibara had been the only ones who Midorima had thought would be able to make it as professional players. Murasakibara had always lacked motivation, of course, but to hear a similar attitude back in Aomine's voice is somehow disheartening. Hadn't Kuroko and Kagami taught him anything?

Midorima had never been particularly close to any of his teammates, with the exception of Akashi, and even that friendship had always been a rather tender thing. All of a sudden, he finds himself rather grateful for the fact that he has individuals like Kise and Takao in his life who never make him doubt their honesty.

As though thinking of the devil does materialize him on the spot, Kise appears.

“Hi, everyone,” his voice rings out, sounding a little stressed and out of breath, “Sorry I'm late. Traffic was hell today.”

He arrives at their table and only belatedly seems to realize the third party.

“Oh,” he says, and stills for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice sounds a tiny bit off, just enough that Midorima can notice, but not exactly pinpoint why.

“I did not see you there,” Kise says by way of explanation, “Nice to meet you. I'm Kise Ryouta.”

“Yeah,” Aomine replies and clears his throat, coughing into his fist, “Aomine.”

“Nice to me you, Aomine-san,” Kise repeats and then delicately moves to sit down next to him on the bench.

“Uh, wait!” Aomine stops him, a little too loudly, “I, uh, was just about to leave anyway, so.”

“Oh,” Kise says and quickly moves aside, “Of course. I'm sorry. I should have realized.”

“No harm done,” Aomine mumbles, squeezing past him but being careful not to touch.

“Sorry, gotta go now,” he says to Midorima, seeming distracted and not quite looking him in the eye, “I have an appointment. See you around, yeah?”

“Of course,” Midorima replies courteously though he knows that Aomine won't bother to contact him in the future, and as if to prove this point the other barely even waits for the parting words and is already turning around and marching towards the door, shoulders hunched up and hands deep in his pockets.

“Well, that was weird,” Takao comments when the glass door falls shut behind Aomine and he can be seen hurrying straight across the road, “You have strange friends, Shin-chan. No offense, Kise.”

“None taken,” Kise says, but it sounds rather subdued.

“Is something the matter?” Midorima asks, suspicious and admittedly worried, “Your reaction to Aomine was rather unusual.”

“Ah,” Kise gives a one-shouldered shrug, “He just reminded me of someone.”

Then his gaze turns sly, “Also, he is kinda hot. Could you give me his number?”

“Though I do encourage the idea of you finally finding someone else,” Midorima says and pushes his glasses up, “I am afraid that any attempt to seduce Aomine will be futile. I've know him to be rather rude and occasionally even somewhat homophobic. Which is why I was a little uneasy in his presence. I do apologize, Takao.”

“It's alright,” Takao says, as forgiving as he always is, though Midorima cannot help but feel guilty about it.

Kise orders himself a sundae and tells them a little about his day and the entitled attitude of the model he had to work with which eventually had the photographer threatening to throw her out of the studio. When they have all eaten, it's already time to go the cinema.

Takao and Kise keep an animated conversation going, as though they are old friends instead of just having met in person for the first time, but Midorima is content just walking a few paces behind them, watching as they wave their hands about and laugh about inane tidbits.

It seems so strange to think that two of the most important people in his life are just the complete opposite of him, so outgoing and cheerful and vibrant. He's never wanted to be anyone else, but he also doesn't think that anyone ever wanted to be him either. The fact that people like Kise and Takao – who could surely befriend anyone they came across – would choose to spend their time with him instead, is a little bit baffling.

The movie the two pick is predicatable and ridiculous, just as Midorima expected, but they let out peals of laughter from where they are seated at his sides, Kise sending him amused glances, and Takao nudging him with his elbow, inching closer and closer.

All in all it's a quite enjoyable evening, though Midorima does make them promise that he gets to decide on the next movie.

Kise wishes them both a good night and then heads off into the direction of his subway station, though he winks at the them both, making it rather obvious that he just wants to give them some extra time alone.

“This was a really nice date, Shin-chan,” Takao tells him openly and Midorima has to clear his throat.

“I doubt it qualifies as a date when there is a third party tagging along,” he objects, but Takao just grins.

“A date is going out and having fun with the person you like,” he claims, “So this was definitely a date for me.”

For me, too, Midorima wants to admits, but his lips won't part and his tongue stays silent inside his mouth.

“Well, then,” Takao says and thumps a fist against Midorima's shoulder, “Get home safe, okay?”

“You too, Takao,” Midorima responds and can only watch as Takao turns around and walks away from him.

 

Midorima gets off a subway station earlier, just so the walk back to his apartment takes a little bit longer and he can clear his head and reflect on the events of the day.

He had almost kissed Takao. Kissed in in the middle of a restaurant, not even caring that there were other people around. And if Aomine had noticed him only a moment later, he would have witnessed how Midorima kissed another man.

Aomine has never been one to gossip, but he still had a tendency to judge. He'd mention it to Momoi and from there it would just get ouf of hand.

He can only hope that Aomine has not interpreted the scene correctly, otherwise he probably wouldn't even have bothered to interupt the almost kiss, let alone sit down with them. But then he had been in quite a hurry to get away after all.

He suspects that Aomine's strange behavior might have been caused by Kise's slightly more overt flamboyance, and though Midorima has never considered himself being an obvious gay he has still often taken pains to hide his sexuality out of fear for the repercussions.

With Takao in his life, he has gotten careless. He has let himself slip.

It could have been anyone else in that restaurant – his anatomy professor, one of his fellow students, his next-door neighbour, even his sister. One way or the other, he would have been outed to a number of people.

At the gay clubs he had Kise had frequented, there was at least the implied sense of camaraderie. They were all in the same boat, so to speak. All knew of the prejudices they were faced with every day. And even then Kise had to constantly worry about whether anyone would snap a picture of him and anonymously sell it to the tabloids.

Midorima didn't even dare imagine what his parents might say if they found out. Tradition and propriety was very important to his family. To be the only male heir among his generation had often placed some pressure on his, but he had always made them proud. Being outed as a homosexual would ruin everything.

By the time he reaches his apartment and locks the door behind himself, Midorima's good mood of the evening has disintegrated.

Just before he goes to bed, he receives a text message.

 _Sleep well, Shin-chan,_ Takao has written as has become his custom.

Today, Midorima does not answer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter has been brought to you by someone who intends to write fluff but always ends up with angst instead.  
> Thanks to this unexpected rollercoaster ride, we'll have third chapter within the next few days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooorry for the long wait. I had the whole chapter planned out, but then it was so difficult to fit all the pieces together. Some of the scene still feel a little disjoined, but I'm still happy with it. Hope you like it, too.

Throughout the next week, Takao keeps sending him text messages.

Midorima never answers any of them, but he reads them all, again and again.

He has long since deleted the dating app itself, but cannot bring himself to block Takao's number, even though he has no intention of ever using it again.

Slowly, Takao's messages become less regular and more timid. Finally, he seems to give up.

_It's okay if you don't want to talk to me anyone, but please just let me know that you're alright._

But Midorima is _not_ alright because he _does_ want to talk. He does want to see Takao again. He did enjoy their date. He would like to go for ice cream. He does care for a one-on-one. He can see today's rainbow through his window. He did pass his exam.

In his head, he answers every single question. Formulates responses that he knows would make Takao laugh.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ Takao asks and his mood is reflected in the lack of emoticons.

You made me fall for you, Midorima thinks and shuts off his phone.

 

It's a Friday, ten days after he has last seen Takao – or Kise, for that matter -, when his doorbell rings.

Not expecting any visitors, he assumes that it's just a delivery service for one of his neighbours and goes to buzz them in.

Naturally, it is not the delivery service. Oha Asa did mention the possibilty for an uncomfortable confrontation, after all. Which is why, a few moments later, Kise comes stomping up the stairs.

For a lack of a better word, Midorima would say that his friend looks pissed.

“You,” Kise says, eyes narrowing as they zero in on Midorima's bland expression.

“Good evening to you, too, Kise,” he replies calmly, “To what do I owe the pleasure of a surprise visit?”

“Don't mess with me when I'm angry,” Kise says and pushes past him into the apartment.

Midorima has witessed Kise being angry a grand total of two times within the past nine months, but those instances have successfully driven home the fact that one should indeed not mess with an irate Kise Ryouta.

Mutely, he follows after him into the small livingroom where Kise keeps wandering up and down like a tiger in a cage, before coming to stand before Midorima, arms crossed in front of his chest as if trying to contain his fury.

“You know why I'm here?” he demands, his eyes throwing sparks.

Midorima's lips purse, “I have an inkling.”

“Good,” Kise says, “Then care to tell me why you won't answer Takao's calls?”

“How do you even know about that?” Midorima counters; at this point denial would be futile.

“We've exchanged numbers and he asked for my help, you idiot,” Kise shakes his head at him, “So? What's your bullshit excuse?”

“It's not an excuse,” Midorima allows, “Just an explanation.”

“Well?” Kise lifts an eyebrow in expectation, obviously not inclined to let him off easy.

Unconsciously, Midorima starts fumbling with his glasses, “I thought it was for the best to cut our relationship short before it could be taken too far.”

“Taken too far?” Kise huffs, “It's not like you can get married.”

“I mean, before it can turn into something romantic and physical,” Midorima elaborates and Kise frowns, “It's okay if you don't want to sleep with him yet. Or at all, really. It's a huge step, and it's just not for everyone.”

“I didn't solely refer to sex,” Midorima says, clearing his parched throat, “There were several instances where he and I were close to kissing, and-”

“What?” Kise interrups him, holding up a hand, “Do you mean you haven't even kissed yet?”

Midorima's silence is, of course, enough of an answer.

“I thought you were just being a prude or wanted to keep things private when you never gave me any details,” Kise's eyes widen, “But that's just because there never were any details. Holy shit.”

“Please do not ridicule me,” Midorima says quietly.

“I'm not making fun of you,” Kise tells him, disbelief still clear in his voice, “I'm trying to understand you. You've come to terms with your sexuality and you've found a really amazing guy. So what's the hold up?”

“There are more than just these two variables to consider,” Midorima tries, “And this is the best course of action for everyone involved.”

“Oh please,” Kise waves the argument away like an annoying fly, “You keep complaining about how I'm being mistreated, but have taken a moment to consider that what you're doing to Takao is even worse?”

“I am not just using him for sex,” Midorima points out, irked at being compared to Kise's affair.

“Exactly,” Kise suddenly snaps as though reminded of his previous anger, “I'm being used for sex. So what? Happens to the best of us. But you're in love with Takao and you won't even hold his hand!”

“I'm not-” Midorima starts automatically, but Kise shuts him down at once.  
“Don't!” he hisses and now there are angry tears in his eyes, “Don't you dare deny it! You're so damn obvious that he must know it, too. And yet you're still too chicken to make it all official.”

“You know it's not that easy,” Midorima tries to defend himself. It's quite clear that Kise is upset for more than just Takao's sake.

“It's one thing to be in a secret relationship, but Takao deserves more than that,” Midorima explains, going for reasonable, even though his own emotions are bleeding into his voice, “Yet I'll constantly feel the need to deny everything because others will judge us. The other day just proved that when we ran into Aomine. People like him-”

“Oh, shut up about Aomine,” Kise sneers, “People like him would never call themselves anything other than straight, but are secretly fucking other men behind closed doors!”

“I highly doubt-” Midorima starts, but Kise interrupts him once more, desperation in his eyes.

“Damn it, Shintarou,” he says, his voice small and broken now, “Whom do you think I've been sleeping with?”

A silence follows during which Midorima can only stare.

Then, in quick sucession, everything falls into place.

The occasional homophobic slur that Aomine off-handedly dropped, dating back to their Teikou days. His overly manly posturing and jabs made at others for not constantly dating girls, yet never keeping a girlfriend for more than a few weeks at a time. So easily falling out of touch after graduating from high school, even though the former team had just really found back together, thanks to Kuroko's persistance.

And Kise, never even mentioning his lover's name, never letting his phone lie around, never giving any hints apart from the fact that the one he was seeing was hopelessly closeted. All of that culminating in their unexpected meeting a couple of days ago, with the two of them reacting so strangely to each other, and Kise deflecting Midorima's questions by acting as if he were merely sexually attracted to the seeming stranger.

“Did you know that I went to school with him?” Midorima asks, his voice flat. He doesn't excatly feel betrayed, but this is still an unforseen turn in their friendship.

“I figured it out when you first let me come over to your place,” Kise admits, looking away, “You have a picture of your team on the wall.”

“Does he know that we're friends?”  
“He does now, I guess,” Kise replies and lets out a humorless laugh, “Not that it matters anymore.”

Midorima frowns, “Why is that?”

“He broke things off with me,” Kise gives a helpless shrug, “Said that if we have the same acquaintances, it's getting too dangerous. So I'm officially solo once more. That's what you wanted, right?”

“I wanted you to be happy,” Midorima mutters, letting his fringe fall into his eyes, but he can still see Kise's gaze soften.

“And I want you and Takao to be happy,” he offers, “Is that so difficult to understand?”

“No,” Midorima concedes, “But difficult to achieve.”

“At least give him a call,” Kise pleads, “If you can't be with him, fine, I'll respect that. But don't keep him hanging. He's hurting, just like you. Give him a clean end, so you can both move on.”

“Yes,” Midorima says with a nod, “That's for the best. You're right.”

“Good,” Kise agrees and takes a deep breath, though there is still a slump to his shoulders, “I should go now. I have an early shoot tomorrow.”

Midorima accompanies him into the hallway and for a moment they awkwardly stand in the threshold.

“Sorry for yelling at you,” Kise says in contrition and for possibly the first time it's Midorima who initiates their costumary hug goodbye.

When Kise has left, Midorima leans against the closed door and lets his eyes fall shut, suddenly drained of all energy.

He promised to call Takao and he should do it as soon as possible. Just a short explanation, a sincere apology, some well-wishes for the future. And then they could both move on, just as Kise had said, with Midorima keeping a low profile until Japan's attitude towards homosexuality has improved some more, and Takao free to date someone who can love him openly.

Suddenly, Midorima cannot swallow around the lump that has formed in his throat.

I don't want to move on, he realizes with painful clarity, his eyes snapping open, I'm stuck.

For a long moment, he just stands there, staring at the wall opposite of him where he keeps his framed photographs.

There's a portrait of his family, taken on the first day of the new year, shortly before he moved out. All of them are wearing traditional clothes and proper expressions, Midorima standing side by side with his father, his sister and his mother seated in front of them. A candid of him and his sister as children, him carrying her on his back through the garden. His Shuutoku team after making third place at the Winter Cup in his first year. Surrounded by cherry blossoms, graduating as the best of his class. His Teikou team, one where they were all fresh-faced and exuberant, after the thrilling victory during their second year; and another, a little awkward, but finally back together, thanks to Seirin's overpowering presence. And the newest addition, a selfie of him and Kise, cheeks smushed together, with Kise grinning broadly and Midorima glaring at him from the corner of his eyes, glasses askew.

He doesn't look gay, he thinks to himself.

He looks like a young man who values hard work, family, and loyalty. He's had his underclassmen look up to him as their captain and ask him for advice. He's training to become a doctor in order to help people. And he happens to be gay.

Aomine doesn't look gay either, or bisexual, or whatever he doesn't admit to being, Midorima muses as he looks at the photographs. Aomine had always lived for basketball, with Momoi and Kuroko tagging along more or less willingly.

Midorima can't quite fathom what Kise would see in him, can't see how they could've fit together for any amount of time. Is that because they do not, in fact, fit together, or because Aomine simply never allowed it?

There's an empty spot next to the selfie that Kise installed himself, a spot were another frame would fit quite nicely to make the whole arrangement seem more complete.

Squaring his shoulders, Midorima comes to a decision and pushes away from the door.

He has some phone calls to make.

 

Kise is already in the park, sitting on a wooden bench, his face tilted up towards the clear blue sky. It's getting colder as summer passes, but it's still bright enough to warrant Kise wearing expensive-looking sunglasses, though they are probably mostly meant to keep his fans from recognizing him as easily, as is the woolen beanie that mostly hides his hair.

Midorima has come to realize that Kise Ryouta the model and Kise Ryouta his obnoxious best friend are two very different people. Yet the one thing that they've always had in common is that they refused to give up, no matter what.

Midorima can only hope that he hasn't given up in this case either.

“You're early,” Midorima says in lieu of a greeting. Kise doesn't even turn his head to acknowledge him, but an amused grin slides over his face.

“Hm,” he hums, positively soaking up the warm rays of the sun, “I have a lot of freetime on my hands lately. Might as well enjoy the little things in life, right?”

Kise doesn't seem too heart-broken about it, but the comment is still a coarse reminder of his recently established single status.

“So, I'm guessing you want to talk?” Kise asks now, patting the free spot next to him in invitation, but Midorima shakes his head.

“No,” he says, turning around without further explanation, trusting Kise to follow him at the sudden abandonment.

As expected, there is the sound of Kise scrambling up from the bench and then shoes crunching on the gravel as he hurries to catch up with Midorima's brisk pace.

“What?” Kise wants to know, slightly out of breath more from the surprise than the quick run, “I thought you called me here to talk about your feelings.”

Midorima gives him a very pointed look from the corner of his eyes, but doesn't bother to say anything. Kise visibly deflates.

“Right,” he concedes, mildly sarcastic, “Not like you have feelings or anything. Not like you'd pour out your heart, and in front of me of all people.”

For a few moments, they keep walking in silence, following the scenic route through the park. Eventually, Kise decides to speak up again.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” he says, nudging Midorima with his shoulder, “But I do think it would be good for you to get some closure.”

“The sentiment is appreciated,” Midorima informs him graciously because of course Kise still believes that this is all about Midorima regretfully rejecting Takao's advances, “But for now I require something else from you.”

At that oddly worded request, Kise cocks his head to the side, “Sure, I guess. What is it?”

“We're almost there,” Midorima hedges, “Though I do hope that I wasn't being to presumptuous in arranging this.”

That only makes Kise look more bewildered.

“What on earth are you talking about?” he chuckles, “You make it sound like you organized a surprise birthday party. Which would be a couple of months too late, you know.”

“Yes, I do recall having to drag you home on your actual birthday because you were too drunk for any taxi driver to allow you in his car,” Midorima points out dryly, “It's not a party or anything like that, so shut up.”

“Mean!” Kise huffs but does fall silent, though it doesn't make much of a difference now.

They're already nearing the street court and the sound of a ball dribbling reaches their ears before they can even get to the wire fence. Kise is distracted by cooing at the baby that is peering back over her mother's shoulder in front of them, but Midorima can already see a lone figure on the court, going through some quick plays.

It's been a while, he thinks and finds himself surprisingly wistful.

Kise waves goodbye to the baby, his gaze still pulled in her direction, even as Midorima veers towards the street court and tugs Kise along with him.

“We're here,” he says, loud enough to get not only Kise's attention, but that of the other player on the court as well.

Kise looks up, just as the man turns around, and Midorima can hear his friend's breath catch.

“What the-” Kise exhales, taking an automatic step back, but then he seems to catch up quickly, throwing an angry glare at Midorima.

“Is this some sort of payback?” he demands, his voice a low hiss but hurt, too, “I tell you to talk things out with Takao, and now you-”

Yet he cuts himself off when the other person steps towards them.

“Hi,” Aomine says and gives an awkward little wave.

“Don't 'hi' me while I'm deciding how to best kill this jerk,” Kise snaps at him, but then his face crumbles along with his walls.

“I thought you never wanted to see me again,” he says quietly and with his shoulders hunched up, “So why-”

“I never said that,” Aomine interrupts him, not harshly, but as though the words just tumble from his mouth. Kise gives him a wounded look, “You might as well have.”

“I was angry,” Aomine admits, “And... and scared, I guess. So I overreacted. I never meant to break up with you.”

That, however, seems to remind Kise of all the arguments Midorima had once formulated against his relationship with Aomine - and now they equip him with ammunition.

“There was nothing to break up,” Kise points out, “We were never really together in the first place. Because you definitely said that, right? 'I'm not a queer. This doesn't mean anything. No one must know.' So sorry, but I'm no longer up for being your dirty little secret. You wanna stay in the closet? Fine, have fun. But I'm out. Literally.”

Midorima would mark this as the fourth time seeing Kise angry if it weren't for the fact that most of it is fake. It's evident in the way Kise has crossed his arms in front of himself in an obvious and rather futile effort to keep himself from shaking, a defense mechanism that only serves to expose him.

From the corner of his eye, a movement catches his attention and when he glances over, he finds Takao leaning against the wire fence, carefully watching from a distance, yet when he catches Midorima's gaze his face stays curiously neutral.

He's too early, Midorima thinks. Up till now, Takao had always been 'fashionably late', as Kise often excused his own tardiness. He had expected to have at least fifteen more minutes to help Kise and Aomine sort out their mess before he started on his own personal problems.

Because Midorima has always believed not in pure luck, but in Fate. In Destiny. Some things are meant to be and one had to play along accordingly for it to happen just so. However, and this is the part he should have realized sooner, the part he had joked about with Takao before, Fate still needs a helping hand.

He cannot become a doctor by just relying on his horoscope. He scores during basketball due to his precision, his strength of will, and hours and hours of dedicated training. He has always been a man of action.

So far, Fate has given him Kise and thus Grindr, and then Takao. Now it is Midorima's turn to earn his due.

Hoping against hope that Aomine and Kise are mature enough to get through this without his supervision, he takes a calming breath and then walks over to where Takao is waiting.

“Hello, Takao,” Midorima says, hoping to make his voice sound both pleasant and pleased.

“Hi,” Takao replies, but it seems off somehow, too curt and brusque, especially when combined with his stand-offish stance, hands in his pockets and all.

So far, Midorima has only ever known Takao as easy-going and agreeable. This might be more of a challenge than he expected. But maybe that is what he deserves.

“I'm glad you agreed to this meeting,” Midorima begins and licks his lips in a self-conscious manner. He's always been good at making empty but appeasing smalltalk with curious neighbours and condescending relatives. Yet openly talking to a peer, especially someone who he holds so dear, is most certainly not his forte.

Right now, Takao seems to think so as well.

“Is this supposed to be some circular story telling?” he asks caustically and Midorima frowns, “Pardon?”

“You know,” Takao gives a big indicative shrug, hands still buried deep in his pockets, “Asking to meet here. Letting a story end where it began. Seems very like you.”

“Our story began on an online dating app,” Midorima reminds him and at that Takao actually sends him something of a glare.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs and kicks at a pebble.

Midorima doesn't really, but he ploughs onwards nevertheless.

“I asked you here because there's something I would like to show you,” he tries, “If that is alright with you?”

Takao hesitates for a moment. Then, he gives a big sigh and all the air and anger seems to deflate from him.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, sounding much more mellow but not yet back to his old self, “Fine. Just... whatever.”

“Thank you,” Midorima says in honest gratitude and then makes to turn around, surreptitiously checking that Takao takes the cue to follow.

Aomine and Kise seem to remain at a checkmate, Kise defensive and Aomine strangely helpless. At least, the situation hasn't gotten any worse in the two minutes that Midorima's attention was distracted.

“I would propose that we play a two-on-two,” he tells everyone, schooling his features as he awaits their reactions. Aomine, of course, perks up at once, Takao frowns mildly, and Kise looks downright insulted.

“You want to play ball while sorting through relationship problems?” he clarifies scathingly, “What kind of soap operas have you been watching? And I don't even know how to play.”

“I can show you,” Aomine offers, first sounding a little breathless and then looking surprised at his own words.

Kise blinks, obviously caught off guard, “Why would you do that?”

Aomine gives a shrug, awkwardly staring down at the asphalt, “I like basketball and... this is something I can share with you. Or something.”

Midorima resents himself for the thought, but he can see how Kise positively melts at those words. Still, he seems intent on not making this easy.

“Fine,” he says, propping his hands up on his hips, “So show me.”

Aomine flashes a bright grin, but then catches himself and ducks his head, shuffling around a bit. Midorima watches, curious to see this unknown side to his former teammate, even as Aomine smoothly arranges himself into the typical shooting stance, the ball an easy weight in his hands, but his eyes on Kise as though to see whether he is paying attention or, maybe, just to look at him.

“So you hold the ball and then you kinda aim and then you let go and it goes it, you got that?” Aomine says.

Midorima resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, a natural like Aomine would have absolutely no qualites for actually teaching anyone anything.

“That's a crappy explanation,” Kise points out.

“Try it anyway,” Aomine tells him and passes him the ball. Kise catches it easily and turns it over in his hands a couple of times. Then he imitates the shooting stance.

“Now,” Aomine says, his gaze critically checking Kise's form but finding no fault, “You just aim for-”  
But Kise has already let go off the ball, letting it soar through the air.

“Idiot,” Aomine huffs, “That was way too high.”

But it's not, Midorima realizes, his eyes widening as he recognizes the move.

“But that's how Midorimacchi always does it,” Kise defends himself, puffing up his cheeks.

“That's different,” Aomine rolls his eyes, “His always go in.”

In the same moment that he speaks those words, the ball falls through the hoop and bounces off the asphalt.

Kise gives a pleased hum and tosses his hair back. Midorima and Aomine can only stare.

“How did you do that?” Aomine asks, gaping.

“Hm?” Kise blinks at him, but then a self-satisfied smirk crosses his lips, “I occasionally watched Midorimacchi play.”

“What the hell,” Aomine's eyes are almost bugging out of their sockets now, “This is not something you pick up from just watching.”

“I've always been good at sports,” Kise waves him off, “Too good, actually. It gets boring when you can't find any real opponents.”

And isn't that just a feeling that Aomine can relate to, Midorima thinks, watching as his old teammate goes to pick up the ball, dribbling it on the spot.

“Try to steal the ball from me,” he tells Kise, “I'll go easy on you.”

“Don't bother,” Kise says and attacks.

Midorima cannot help but smile. Yet when he glances to his side to share it with Takao, he finds himself alone. Suddenly frantic, he whirls around, only to realize that Takao has wandered off and actually left the court, never even looking back.

So Midorima does the only reasonable thing that comes to his mind. He runs after him.

“Takao!” he calls out, his soles slapping on the ground and his breath hitching a little because the other still doesn't turn.

“Takao!” he tries again as he catches up with him, but his abrupt stop makes him more hesitant all of a sudden, his hand coming up to gently touch a shoulder.

“Kazunari,” he says, quietly.

He's always liked the name. Modern and unusual and somewhat unexpected, just like Takao himself.

So he doesn't quite know what does the trick, the hand, the name, the peculiar tone in his voice, or something else entirely, but finally Takao does come to a halt, though he takes another moment and a deep breath before he turns around.

“Look, Shin-chan,” he says and for the first time since Midorima has known him, Takao doesn't look him in the eye, “I just don't know what to expect from you anymore. First you just wanna be friends, but still give me these looks. Then you start ignoring me, only to ask me on this weird sort of double date where no party seems to know what they even want. And I'm sorry, but this starting to stress me out.”

It's understandable, of course, Midorima thinks faintly. From the very beginning, Takao had been the one to compromise, to give him time, to not ask for much of anything. At some point, even someone like him would have to run out of patience.

And now Midorima can only helplessly watch as his last chance slips through his fingers.

“I like you, Shin-chan, and I wanna stay friends with you,” Takao admits with the ghost of a smile, yet when he finally manages to look up his grey gaze is shuttered with hurt, “But I like you so much that for now I just need a little break to catch my breath and fall out of love with you, alright?”

“Don't!” Midorima says quickly and with so much force that Takao jumps a little, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don't fall out of love with me,” Midorima repeats more gently, stepping a little closer, “Don't take a break. Don't stay just friends.”

He's tired of doors closing in front of his face. Tired of closing them himself. So he wedges his foot in and makes it count.

“I arranged this meeting for several reasons,” he tries to explain, mentally going over the list he has so carefully composed, even as his own emotional turmoil still befuddles him, “I stopped answering your calls because I knew I would be unable to give you what you deserve most: an open, steady and loving relationship.”

Takao winces at that and, fearing that he might have been misinterpreted, Midorima quickly continues.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he says and surprises himself with his boldness, “I wanted to kiss you, but then Aomine was there and I couldn't help but think that he would have judged me, would have judged _us_. Everyone would judge us, my family and co-workers and neighbours, for the rest of our lives. I had admitted to myself that I was gay, but I was still afraid of the stigma. And I knew that it would have been unfair to you.”

The breath he takes is shuddering, but still calms him somewhat. Takao is still watching him, wide-eyed and speechless. So Midorima goes on, “Because I'd seen the same thing happening to Kise. In a relationship with someone who wanted to keep him secret at all costs. Even if that cost was Kise's happiness.”

Saying it out loud like that is strangely freeing. Like a weight being lifted from his chest.

“But then I found out,” he says, “I found out that Aomine, whom I had always thought of as one who'd cast the first stone, is actually the one Kise kept returning to. And it didn't make any sense.”

It still doesn't, mostly. But then again, Kise and Aomine on their own don't make much sense either. Putting them together naturally wouldn't change anything.

“So I called Aomine.”

To be precise, he had first called Akashi in England to get Aomine's number. Akashi had demanded a thorough explanation. Midorima's phone bill was going to be horrendous. On the bright side, however, all future instances of his coming out would be much less terrifying in comparison.

Yet Akashi had been understanding because _Akashi had already known_. Had told him that Momoi and Kuroko had already known. Haizaki and Murasakibara probably hadn't, but that was definitely for the best.

“I did what I had always been afraid of happing to me. What he was clearly afraid of,” he closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again, “I confronted him about his sexuality. I asked him why, if he was so ashamed, he could just keep using Kise in such a manner? Whether he wasn't aware of the risk he was taking – because Kise is famous, and if anyone finds out about his affair, half of Japan will know about Aomine, too.”

There'd been the possibility that that was what enticed Aomine so. The tantalizing danger of being caught with a popular model while still being able to keep him under his thumb. Yet even after all these years, Aomine never failed to surprise.

“But it turns out,” he tells Takao because this is what he's been trying to get to, “That the only thing Aomine regretted about their relationship was to keep Kise secret. And to let him go.”

Takao's mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. Nervously, he licks his lips.

“What are you trying to say, Shin-chan?” he asks as though not daring to hope.

“I don't want to keep you secret, Takao,” Midorima tells him, “And I don't want to let you go.”

Takao swallows.

“Are you confessing to me?” he wants to know, uncertain.

“Yes,” Midorima nods, “Because I have developed feelings for you. I would like to be in a romantic relationship with you. I want to go on dates. I... want you to meet my family. And my teammates. I love you and I refuse to be ashamed.”

“Okay,” Takao says and grins.

Midorima stares a little, “... Sorry?”

“Yeah, okay,” Takao gives a tiny shrug, nodding his head, “Yes to all of that.”

When Midorima still cannot help looking a little perplexed, he goes on.

“I mean, I knew you had some stuff to sort out,” he says off-handedly, “And now you did, and I'm in love with you, too. So. Can I kiss you now?”

Mutely, Midorima shakes his head.

“I would like to kiss you first,” he admits, though it seems unreasonable. Yet Takao's grin only gets a sharper edge to it.

“How about this,” he says and stands up on his tip-toes, closing his arms around the back of Midorima's neck and pulling him down, “We kiss each other.”

So that is what they do.

It's not Midorima's first kiss, not even his first kiss with another man. But it's his first kiss with Takao and thus his first time kissing someone he loves.

It is... quite different from his previous experiences which had been perfunctionary and only mildly curious at best. Takao's breath on him, however, is warm and damp, and then his mouth is as well. It presses against Midorima's, bluntly and without preamble, as was to be expected of him. His lips are slim and tight, though, and it takes Midorima a moment to realize that it's because he is grinning. Midorima had not known that smiles could be a part of kissing, but the thought alone is enough to make him smile as well, faintly, hesitantly.

His own hands have found purchase on Takao's narrow hips, pulling him closer. That seems to be enough encouragement for Takao to sink his fingers into Midorima's hair, to part his own lips in such a way that Midorima follows the movement by opening his mouth as well. And then Takao's tongue is lapping a him, his teeth nipping gently, until Midorima's breath turns uneven and his nose is mashed against Takao's, glasses riding up.

When he pulls back he is vaguely aware of the other people in the park, tsk'ing, hurrying past them, pointedly turning a blind eye at the inappropriate display, but Midorima does not care. His eyes remain fixed with Takao's who's slightly flushes and trying to keep his grin in check by biting at his lower lip. Midorima finds that only makes him want to kiss him more.

“That was worth the wait,” Takao decides and Midorima more than agrees.   
Their arms are still around one another and for a minute they just stand there in this long-awaited embrace. Eventually, Takao pulls away slightly, “Should we go look how Kise is doing?”

Admittedly, Midorima had mostly forgot about his best friend and old teammate, and the reminder comes as a bit of a surprise. He does not think that the situation between the two has escalated, but it probably won't hurt to check.

“Of course,” he agrees, and together they turn to walk back to the street court.

“So you really set up this double date in hopes that we'd all get our happily ever after?” Takao teases good-naturedly, even as his hand reaches out to entwine with Midorima's, “Man, Kise was right. You really must watch a lot of bad tv, Shin-chan.”

Self-consciously, Midorima straightens his glasses, “I had thought that this was something you would deem romantic.”

“You could have serenaded under my bedroom window,” Takao laughs.

“I'll remember that for next time,” Midorima promises though he has a feeling that Takao is not the type to demand grand gestures all of the time. It's not about what he demands, though. As always, it's only what Midorima is willing to give freely. A serenade may not be high up on that list, but there are other things. Maybe he's even manage to surprise Takao with some of them.

Back on the court, Kise and Aomine seem to have wrapped up their impromptu game, though with an incorrigible player like Aomine involved it was probably more of Kise making mad dashes for the ball and being teased for never getting it.

And indeed, right now Kise looks more out of breath than Midorima has ever seen him, and he's wiping his sweat-damp hair from his splotched face, his beanie lost at some point. Aomine is just watching him, barely winded, his tongue caught between his lips.

“You want your reward?” he asks and Kise frowns, “But I lost.”

“Of course you did,” Aomine rolls his eyes, “No one beats me, especially not some rookie. But you held your own and that's something.”

“Then what's my prize?” Kise wants to know, “Can I have a popsicle?”

“No,” Aomine says, stepping closer, and kisses him.

For the first time in the entirety of their friendship does Midorima witness Kise being honestly out of his depth. The blonde jerks back out of the kiss, covering his mouth with his hands and blushing bright red.

“What are you doing?” he squeaks, yet Aomine only rubs the back of his head.

“Well, we're a couple, right?” he replies awkwardly, looking at the ground, “And boyfriends kiss each other on dates, so.”

Af though looking for confirmation, he glaces up – only to have Kise throw himself at him.

“Yes,” Kise agrees, pressing his lips to Aomine's ruddy cheek, “Boyfriends kiss on dates.”

Not wanting to intrude but feeling more awkward just watching them like this, Midorima clears his throat to gain their attention.

When Kise looks over, his gaze immediately drops to Takao and Midorima's joint hands, and though he does not say anything a pleased and knowing smirk spreads over his lips.

“So,” Takao prompts, not self-conscious at all, “How about this two-on-two?”

“I'm completely exhausted,” Kise prostest, “And I still barely know the rules.”

“That's okay,” Aomine assures him, “I can take those two on my own anyway.”

“Rude,” Kise complains and punches him in the side. Gently.

“You haven't seen me and Shin-chan play,” Takao points out and cocks a challenging eyebrow.

“You haven't seen me go all out,” Aomine retorts.

“I have,” Kise says and his voice turns into a purr, “And what a sight it is.”

Suddenly, Midorima finds himself very glad for the fact that Kise had been keeping their relationship secret and never shared any details. Then he realizes that there won't be any more hold-ups from now on and that he will soon have to listen to explicit descriptions of Aomine's sexual prowess.

He shakes his head to get rid of the mental image.

“Kise,” he says instead, “Before we get started, could you take a photo of us?”  
“Sure,” Kise replies and pulls out his phone.

Takao does not seems surprised at all, just puts on a big grin and strikes a piece sign while Midorima stands next to him and carefully settles his hand on Takao's shoulder, their sides touching.

“Say cheese,” Kise demands obnoxiously although Midorima will definitely not do so and Takao's smile can't possibly get any wider.

At the last moment, however, Midorima changes his mind and bends down slightly to press a kiss to Takao's temple.

“D'aww,” Kise says and snaps about a dozen photos, and Midorima is sure that at least one of them will fit perfectly on his wall.

 

 

 

Coda

 

Of course, Takao and Midorima win the game because Kise and Aomine _squabble_.

There's a Teiko reunion. Turns out, everyone else had known about Aomine as well.

The friendship that Takao and Kise strike up secretly scares Midorima to no end.

Aomine teaches Kise how to properly play. More than once they are filmed by fans and paps. Eventually, Aomine is approached by a scout and invited to play professionally. After his first big game, an interviewer asks him who he would like to dedicate his victory to. Aomine says, My stupid boyfriend, I guess.

Midorima comes out to his family. It's not easy, but his sister backs him up. Turns out, he needn't have worried. Everyone immediately loves Takao. After dinner, his grandmother pulls Midorima aside. Don't mess this up, she tells him. Midorima gives her a solemn nod. He won't.

And indeed, he doesn't. Instead, they all live happily ever after.

The End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This silly idea has grown into my longest knb story so far - and it's not even with AoKise as the main pairing.  
> I hope Midorima - or Aomine for that matter - didn't come across as too cheesy. But I felt like Takao and kise definitely deserved being thoroughly romance'd after what they had to put up with.  
> Considering this plot bunny started only with Kise being an annoying best friend, I was kind of surprised how it suddenly turned into this journey of self-acceptance and what-not. But I especially like the way Kise's confrontation and Midorima's resolution at the beginning of this chapter turned out. :)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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